An Omelet for Breakfast Tomorrow
by Crumpled Paper Hearts
Summary: '"Did you expect any different?" He asks sincerely, biting the inside of his cheek with a weak chuckle.' More BlackHawk fluffiness filed with a certain aviary hero's nest, Nyan Cat ringtones and apparently omelet for breakfast tomorrow.


The petite Russian set herself down on what seemed to be chair in Clint's eyes.

"So your nest..." She drawls, surveying the scenery.

The well-toned field agent plops himself down on the straw flooring next to her with a raised eyebrow.

"...is an _actual_ nest?" She laughs heartily, leaning forward and placing her elbows on her lap; hands propped up on either side of her face.

A forced grin and a subtle expression of confusion surfaced on Clint's face; "Did you expect any different?" He asks sincerely, biting the inside of his cheek with a weak chuckle.

It was her turn to grin, leaning back to cross her legs and place her arms behind her to hold herself up. "I just thought it was another word for home like '_crib_' or '_pad_'." She shrugs with a smirk.

A hearty huff escapes the aviary hero as he pulls the strap across his chest over his head to let his quiver down behind him.

"Real birds _should_ live like birds. It's a part of our superhero persona." He explains contently, picking up one of his arrows and twirling it between his fingers.

"Oh, so you think I have a big spiderweb in my room, Barton?" She suppressed the urge to laugh as she haughtily places her hands on her hips, her lips pursed out to what was akin to amusement.

The man holds his hands to his built abdomen as he gave genuine laughter; "Well where else do you keep your victims-slash-lunch, hm?" He teases, lightly jabbing her shin with his elbow.

In response, she accidentally-on-purpose hit him back a little too hard on his hip with the heel of her boot with a giggle.

The laughter slowly dies in the near-hollow bedroom, turning into comfortable silence where the two stare at each other eagerly. Clint shrugs the slight pain to his side off and scooches closer to the venomous agent.

He turned towards her, sitting on his knees and placing his muscular, crossed arms on her lap. He gives a childlike smile and places his chin squarely on his arms. The redhead winces at this, trying to fight the urge to pick him up and craddle him like a baby chick. A smile breaks through her facade and cracks on her lips.

"You know, 'Tash... you're the _only_ person I've let in here." He hums, thrusting a raised thumb towards the background behind him with closed eyes and a small smile. She puckers and bites down on her bottom lip, her eyes were soft and serene, unlike the deadly force of nature her 'victims' knew of before their untimely demise.

"...Well I'm honored..." She whispers out in a hush tone, but enough for his hearing aids to pick up (he's 80% deaf, y'know?).

She brings her arms up from behind her and places them on either side of his face, bringing them up towards her's. His impossibly blue eyes opened at her light touch, gleaming with an innocent shine. Her leather-clad feet shuffle underneath her, playing with the stray pieces of straw and sticks.

Honestly, it was a pretty well build nest with a reasonable structural integrity. The wooden material were woven religiously together. It was about 3 feet in diameter, perched at the corner of his bedroom next to a window wall that gave a view of downtown Manhattan from one of the high floors of the Stark tower.

"I love it, Clint..." She muses and leans forward to press her lips soft against his forehead. She could feel him giving out a cool exhale, digging his fingernails into her legs gently.

Abruptly, however, a muffled Nyan Cat began to resonate within the chambers of his room. The woman pulled back in surprise and Clint's eyes grew wide. He let out a heavy and frustrated sigh as the bird-man dug his hand into his nest, searching around and finally pulled out an iPhone front underneath the straw.

Natasha gave a clear smirk, one eyebrow cocked up high and quiet laugh as if to say 'Really, Clint?'. He rolled his eyes with a wide smile and slide-to-unlock'd.

By this time, Natasha had set herself down next to him and peeped at what had so rudely disturbed them. A message, actually. Her eyes mumbled out the words that appeared on screen.

**_"Hey Katniss! Nice nest you got there. Is it a crib for the little egglings for when you and the Spider lady get down with it? Save one for me, please. I'd like an omelet for breakfast tomorrow._**"

Barton's mouth pulled into a tight grimace. He turned his head up to the high corner of the room across from them and stared into the near-hidden lens camera. His eyes narrowed dangerously...

"**Stark**...!"

* * *

A little ficlet I cooked up in a comment down at DeviantArt for a little something someone named MikaMurha made made upon my subtle request in one of her drawings. It looks something like the beginning part, and I thought it'd be pretty swell for inspiration. Even the oneshot I made before this; "Are you okay" was from another drawing I found.

But yes, more BlackHawk fluffy goodness~ I hope you like it MikaMurha. :P I hope ya'll enjoy it too.

I'm sensing a pattern in the way I make Avengers oneshots. Sweetness... fluffiness... then a Stark cockblock. But as you think more about it, you wouldn't expect it any other way. I for one, don't like omelet... or... anything with egg in it, really. Mayo, fried egg, omelet or stuff... used to be allergic, but once the allergy died down it was replaced with distaste, but yeah. : |

**If anyone wants to make a request, you can go ahead! I support Clint/Tasha, Steve/Tony, mild Bruce/Tony and implied Steve/Thor. AVENGERS ASSEMBLE!**


End file.
